


These waves will carry us home

by maharetr



Category: Babylon 5, The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Drabble Sequence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Harm to Children, Nightmares, Psychic Abilities, a drabble is 100 words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 03:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2214459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maharetr/pseuds/maharetr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They’d need to nest in a mind that was calm and didn’t broadcast much of their own emotions, the kind of mind that Jensen did not have." -- We Walk in the Dark Places, by Cleo</p>
            </blockquote>





	These waves will carry us home

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [We Walk in the Dark Places](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2078424) by [Cleo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cleo/pseuds/Cleo). 



> People who are here via Babylon 5! I wrote this with a strong Losers background, and scant Babylon 5 knowledge. I apologise preemptively for any mistakes, and welcome feedback on making it better, bearing in mind that I'll need to replace word for word because drabbles.
> 
> My word counter was Word, and it put me at bang on 100 each drabble, not including em dashes. Putting the entire work, including spacing markers into http://www.wordcountertool.com/ gets me 503. I facepalm confusedly at the world.

The explosion is blinding, the smoke choking. He staggers towards the screaming, stumbles, falls. He can’t get up -- "Cougs," -- can’t help -- "Wake up."

Jake’s wrapped around him, pinning his limbs. It's kept him on the bed. Just.

"Fuck." Cougar's throat hurts. "Imawake."

There’s a blanket on the floor, a mug. Oh.

"You didn't have to," Cougar mutters.

"You carried Kara out of there, so yeah, I am."

"Thanks," Cougar whispers.

Jake relaxes, affects a shrug. "Whatever, least you can do is give me a proper bed. Shove over." Cougar bites down a smile, and moves over.

~*~

The second night after they’d escorted the scientists to safety, after Cougar had carried Kara for a mile. That second night Cougar wakes sweat-drenched, bolting upright out of the nightmare: clinging to Kara as their transport explodes, as he tries to shield her with his body. But Cougar’s scream is trapped behind his teeth, and Jensen sleeps on in the armchair.

The corridor is blessedly dark and cool, and Cougar paces its length until he can breathe evenly. _Safe,_ he recites. _Everyone’s safe_. He still takes watch, sitting guard over Jake, over the twins down the hall. It helps, some.

~*~

“You do what Momma did.”

Cougar startles from his doze. Kara is standing in the doorway, looking cold and small.

“Did I wake you?” he asks, opening his arms. She settles against him. “You screamed,” she says absently. “In your head.”

“I’m sorry, little one,” he whispers.

“It’s all right. I have bad dreams, too.”

Cougar winces. “What did Momma do?” he asks.

“She made nests for people. You’re quiet, like she was.”

“I did,” Cougar corrects. He’s been far more a sniper; a different sort of quiet. “Been a while.”

“Please...” It’s a plea for safety, comfort. He relents.

~*~

They had called Cougar _immanently suitable_ , and had trained him in shielding exhausted telepaths in the field. The irony of the similarities had not been lost on him: build his defences; lower his heart rate and breathing; calm his mind and sit in quiet attentiveness, scanning. But this was saving someone’s sanity, not shooting them.

The mantras for opening come easily, and Kara’s there, waiting, far stronger and more overwhelming than some mind attacks he’s experienced. But she’s also a child, frightened and lonely and desperately uncertain. 

_It’s all right_ , he whispers wordlessly. She nods, motionless, and he cradles her.

~*~

_I have nightmares, too._

It was not his place to ask, but he knew the Shadows; he could guess her story.

Suspecting is different to the reality of her memories: a blood-smeared floor, -- _Momma_ \--, of being snatched away to darkness and cold–-.

Cougar breathes deeply. He steadies the defences around his own helpless horrors, offering open arms, warmth, haven. He holds her, mind and body, until their pain eases.

In Cougar's mind, they’re drifting on the currents of their breath, floating, peaceful. In the realm of their bodies, she sleeps against him, and it feels like absolution.


End file.
